Day of Black
by Mianame
Summary: The story of how the queen of the castle came into being. Rated PG 13 for suggested deaths later in story(none of the suggestions get too visual, so don't worry)Chapter 2 uploaded.
1. Default Chapter

Note: This strays greatly from the basic storyline. Ico will not even be mentioned and practically everything in this I made up myself including names, a few of the characters, customs, and building aspects. Some of the buildings will be similar, but not any parts seen in the game. 

And with that, I hope you enjoy the story!

Chapter I: A Son Yet To Be

The castle was, to say the least, for boding. Shadows crept across her face, shading every crevice and wall as the sun rose higher from beneath the hazy clouds of morning. A light mist hovered above the ocean beneath. So high was the castle that no enemy could think of puncturing her one weakness; the animals that occupied her. The outer walls held firm against attack, as did the single vast bridge that lead from the cliff to the sole island she rested on. A small cave lay near the ocean deep below the gargantuan shape, but with the gate so low into the sea, entry could only be made with permission.  
She was perfect at holding enemies out, but little did her minions know of the enemy within. Beneath the rock and waves rested a most powerful creature. It slept within its water bed, silently awaiting the moment it would be released and able to reek havoc upon the world once more. This creature's name was death.

Oen stood on the curve of a balcony watching the sun in her daughter's hair. The light of day was breaking into noon, and every bit of its brightness shown in the grayish strands that floated about Yorda's neck. She was on the top of a building in front of her mother, arms lifted in the air with joyful laughter escaping her lips. Birds circled in the sky above her, many taking to flight as she ran wild over the square just so she could watch them soar once again. They would always come back though. Not only did they like her young Yorda and had become used to her, but she also held a small back of feed in her hands.  
The young queen smiled. It always filled her with joy to watch the princess play. It reminded her so much of her own younger years. They both could have been twins if it hadn't been for their ages. Pale skin that glowed like the moon, hesitant and yet still flowing movements, feathery hair that reminded one of down, and a matching outfit adorned them both. Other than their difference in height and body shape, Oen also had hair that lead to the small of her back. Yorda would have to grow her hair as well; it was expected of all of the women of the castle when they came of age.  
Oen couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness at that thought. Yorda and herself were the only women in the castle as of the moment. The women had settled in a town many nights away until the castle was complete. The men, tall and robusque with horns that matched their personalities didn't make good friends to confide in. Yorda had no one to play with but her mother and kind father, though he was often too busy to even acknowledge her existence as of late.  
The king often stopped his busy work to visit Oen, but the visits were lessening since she often brought up the subject of how he never visited Yorda. The conversation would break into an uncomfortable silence before he fumbled with an excuse to leave.  
Almost as if on queue, in he came. Men were judged in status by the size of their horns which meant, of course, that his were the largest of all the males. They automatically drew one's attention when seeing him; large, sleek, and black. Not even one chip as many of the workers had. He wore the outfit known of men, only a little flashier. Draped over a silken white shirt was a large red cloth engraved with golden lace. Oen could remember the hours she spent making it. His tan pants tucked into leather tied about his calves, pristine sandals tugging at his large feet. Unlike his wife, the king was quite tan.  
He surveyed Oen quietly a moment. She didn't look at him; she watched Yorda. Stepping in place next to her, he gave a normal greeting for the time of day, "The sun is high and light plentiful Oen"  
"And I am glad of our lives, Kail," she answered almost robotically. Now that the greetings were out of the way, normal conversation could once again commence.  
She jumped at the sudden feel of his large hands trailing through her hair. He hadn't touched her in weeks, which made this gesture all the more surprising.  
"Your hair is growing longer," he commented. The longer the hair of a woman was, the more beautiful she was believed to be. She looked to him in silence a moment. Though still quite upset at his lack of willingness to see his daughter, she couldn't help but smile. It was one of the highest compliments that he could pay her.  
Kail smiled back. The large hand moved to her shoulder, pulling her next to his strong form. His eyes never left her, "You have been most unhappy."  
Oen's eyes stayed focused on Yorda, cleverly avoiding his. It was such a touching moment; she didn't wish to interrupt it with her own complaints. Their love had almost faded recently, and the sign that it might not completely be gone couldn't be broken by her thoughts on Yorda. But his eyes forced her to answer in an unwilling tone, "You know of the reason Kail."  
For the first time Kail moved his eyes away from hers. He noticed Yorda. She was crouched on the ground, hands filled with the last of the feed, though it was unseen due to the fluttering white birds that plucked so eagerly at it. More birds crouched on her shoulders and legs, happily dozing from their filling meal. Almost as if called by her father's gaze, she looked up to the two.  
Her birds were instantly forgotten. She stood suddenly, throwing the feed aside and waving with her childish hand. A blast of white feathers shot away from her, the birds dispersing in every direction and flying toward the clouds.  
Oen felt Kail stiffen. She knew what was to come, and indeed it happened. He withdrew from her suddenly and began to leave. He didn't even bother with the proper farewell.  
Yorda's face fell immediately. Her mother attempted to offer her a friendly smile from her perch, but Yorda had already turned away. She crouched with her back facing the balcony. Not one bird came to comfort her. The queen felt fury boiling inside of her. These are most unbefitting emotions for me, she thought, but I can't keep them down any longer. She rushed after her king.  
Kail had reached the door, but the feel of the soft fingers grasping at his arm immediately stopped him. He turned and watched her with silent, stern eyes. They revealed nothing of his reasoning.  
"Why do you hate our daughter?" Oen was surprised at her bluntness, and so was Kail. Their people had a way of dodging around the truth. They usually only hinted at what they meant. A queen was never meant to openly question her king as she had just done.  
But no punishment ensued. Instead he seemed to open to her. A weary sigh escaped him. He looked to the dimly lit ceiling of stone and spoke in a manner Oen had never heard him use; remorse, "I have worked on this castle ever since she was born. Years and years have passed, and no matter what I do, the one thing I built this fortress for has never come. I made it all for a son"  
Oen drew in a sudden breath. It felt as if she had just received a punch in the stomach. He blamed their daughter for not being of the correct gender? How could that possibly be? It wasn't as if it was Yorda's fault or even her own.  
Kail looked at her a moment longer. Then, slowly, he stepped on the stone that made the metal door shoot into the framework. It slammed noisily behind him, the sound ringing through the room and Oen's breaking heart.

And that's it for now. I have another chapter and a half written, but I'm going to continue to grammatically correct them before posting. I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for reading!-


	2. Death Awakens

Chapter II: Death Awakens

The darkness beneath the safe nest of the castle was stirring. In the process of building, a few casualties had occurred, and Death fed from them with glee. Though it did so in its sleep. Now it was gaining its energy from these minor flaws. Above its cocoon of water and rock, the noise of the minions was obvious. They banged and drilled, chiseling away its entrapment without the slightest of ideas. It could feel their life. Only a few more years beneath and it would have died. But now there was a chance for survival, and it seized it.  
A crack appeared in its chamber.

-------

Oen hurried to her daughter as soon as able. It had taken a moment to gather her strength after the all too truthful words of her husband. She came to the top of the building to find Yorda in the same position as before; back turned and crouched, the wind billowing at her ghost-like dress. She noted that Yorda had no tears. It was not custom, and she had remembered so. Oen herself couldn't remember a time when she had cried.  
The queen moved next to Yorda and kneeled. She took no notice. But as the soft hand of her mother pressed against her back to show her comfort and sympathy, Yorda fell to her side with her head in Oen's lap. She didn't look up or speak; instead she stared at the misty water that made the landscape.  
Oen brushed her hair with her hand, fingertips running across the tender child's skin as she watched her. Yorda reminded her so much of herself. So quiet and gentle. Unknowing to the cruel ways of the world, and to the cruel turn of her father's thoughts. He used to love her and play with her, but that was when he believed he still might have a son. A son and a daughter would be grand for him, but just a daughter held no chance of her coming to rule. Any family could come into power if they had horns. Yorda would never have them.  
Women never did.  
She smiled sadly at her daughter and bent down to place a gentle kiss on her ear, "You father loves you. He told me so." It was hard to lie and once again against custom, but it was needed to keep the fragile girl living.  
Yorda didn't answer. She laid and stared.  
Oen heard the footsteps of someone running a distance away, and it caught both Yorda and Oen's attention immediately. The only time anyone ran was when something was deadly wrong. They heard him round two corners, a flight of stairs, and scramble up the second set of stairs to reach him.  
They both stood immediately while Oen demanded in her gentle voice, "What has happened"  
Oen noticed he was a young worker. It sent a chill up her spine. The king often went underground with the workers. He never worked, but watched. Either way, it was odd behavior for a king and dreadfully dangerous. She knew a worker would not run to her if one of his companions had been killed.  
The worker gasped for breath before managing to leak the words out, "The king, he-..We are unsure what has happened to him. He is not dead, but he does not move"  
She took Yorda's hand and placed it in the young man's, "Take her to her chambers and do not let her leave. Stay in front of her door until I call you." The worker nodded and Oen glided past.  
More helpers of the kingdom were waiting in the large elevator that had been constructed. To the normal eyes, it was a cage with steel bars leading to a large roof, but to Oen's people it was only a means of transportation to the misty caverns below.  
A man pulled the lever and the cube of steel descended to a spiral staircase. Oen did not run, but she walked faster than she ever had. Workers could run, but not their queen. Keeping herself in control would keep panic from spreading. She knew this all too well.  
They moved down three more flights of stairs and through a circuitry of confusing tunnels before reaching him. It was a large room below the castle and on the rim of the oceans. The very belly of the island they had built on. A massive waterfall towered above them, the cool stream falling to the base at which they stood. But no noise came when the water touched. It was deadly silent, and Oen could see why.  
Across the hazy water something had formed. It looked to them all as if the mist were reeking havoc. The cloudy black material unfurled across the cool glass, reaching only the edge of the massive pool before retreating. It made no other move. The waterfall fell into it, but it seemed to be completely absorbed. White ripples contrasted the devastatingly black shape, trembling across it from the impact, but still no sound came. It was swallowing the water as it did the sound.  
Oen stared for only a few moments, assessing the danger at hand. Then she moved to her king.

-------

Oh, sweet revenge at its finest. It did not matter who these creatures were or if they had trapped it. Killing always felt like revenge. The taste poured into him. The pounding continued on the top of his dome. Finally, Death opened its one eye and watched. The bright glow of the white orb shot to the crack. Pieces of rubble slowly drifted into the assimilated water, now turned black by its presence.  
It could feel power close by. Not the weak workers that thrust the metal object into his underwater cave. No, it was the leader. How foolish to be so near workers, but it was all the better for Death. It would take its fill of this power and use it as it wished. Not to kill him. No, not just yet. Using him would be best.  
The ever growing crack finally gave. The fresh water flowed in, and the dark evil flowed out. The white eye searched hungrily for the first of its victims. Shocked faces of horned people saw its body spread. Many were in the water helping the chain that freed him rise and fall. It was too late for them. They would all die in a matter of seconds. Oh, how it would love to drain these lives. So fresh and pristine. It could tell this already.  
It noticed the king quickly. He stood near the edge of the water, not a look of surprise on him. Instead he was ordering people about in a calm tone, but in a language it didn't understand. In fact, it didn't understand any language other than power.  
The concentrated evil had enough power for one leap. He would aim perfectly. The swiftly shifted over the glassy water, and with much haste it struck.

-------

The worker was right. He was not moving, and looked most dead. A steady rising and falling of his chest told otherwise. It was the only thing that kept Oen from panicking.  
She knelt to him and placed a hand to his chest. He felt odd and different. Something vibrated within him, though it was unseen. She could feel it gathering beneath her hand. She jerked away as quickly as possible without causing alarm. Whatever it was, it was dangerous.  
"Were there any in the water?" she asked.  
"Eleven Queen"  
"How many left"  
"None Queen. They all disappeared the moment it rose from beneath the water. The gods have spoken"  
"You have no authority to make that judgment"  
The worker immediately fell silent. She rose and looked to him, quickly noticing that he was the only one without chipped horns. "You are in charge then?" He nodded. She looked down to her husband, doing her best to keep her shaky breaths from being noticeable. Her heart pounded, her skin sweat. Panic held every corner of her form. But she kept from making rash decisions. She had been taught how to handle power, and panicking only lead to more destruction.  
"Get your strongest men and move him to the bed chamber. Undress him and place him beneath the blankets. Make sure the men you don't need leave this area now. Do not hesitate. I will even allow them to ride with me to the top." She turned and left, even though she felt more like fainting.  
Many men gathered into the elevator with her, but she stayed to the back and they kept a respectable distance. At the top they went their separate ways. A crane that held the elevator swung to the top of a building which she took. The crane swung again and deposited the men on a narrow ledge on the other side.  
Oen entered the chapel. Many pews lined the four aisles in the spacious area. Their work force was indeed large, and in the chapel there were no signs of higher rank. Oen received her only chance to mingle with her workers in this place, which made it all the more sacred to her.  
Priest stood at the far end. He wasn't an elderly man. Quite young actually when looking at him physically, but he was indeed thousands of years old as the rest of them were. Across his forehead a bright yellow sun had been tattooed. Oen remembered seeing him once without his golden hat, and on the back of his bald head was the moon.  
He sat on a cushion in the middle of the alter, not facing forward or backward like she expected, but to one side. His eyes were closed and head tilted upward. No matter how soft she walked, he always noticed her. It was a private game of theirs, but she didn't play it today. She swiftly marched toward the alter.  
"I know what has happened," he said in his slow, melancholy tone.  
"What can we do to stop it? What can we do to help him?" There would be no dodging questions today. The priest knew her true self, so she could speak as openly as she wished.  
"Leave. We must all leave today. Do you know what that was"  
"No. Priest, you must tell me"  
He opened his eyes and stared at a window. After a moment he turned to face her. She sat kneeled before him by habit. Soon he spoke, "Have you ever seen death in a way other than accidents or in a way other than when we chose to leave this realm? I have, but you are too young. Long ago, this entire planet knew of a word called aging. The moment you were born, you began to die. And very quickly no less. The people that lived then managed to stay alive for a mere 80 to 90 years if lucky. They thought the gods had presented them with this, but it was Death. Death steals life. Maybe over a quick course of years, but possibly instantaneous as it has done with the workers. I warned King to dig no further. I told him the planet would seek its revenge, and it has. Death will live in this island forever"  
Oen listened silently, but it took her a much longer time to comprehend his words. As soon as she could fathom this new concept, she knew her husband would die in 80 years, if not sooner. Oh, how she wished it would be instantaneous instead. At least she wouldn't be mourning for eighty years of her life.  
She felt it all crawling within her minds. The accident, the deaths, the enragement of the world, and even her king's hate of his daughter. Her breathing increased and her forehead beaded with sweat. Her heart was fluttering at an irregularly fast rater.  
Priest rose and moved toward. The last thing she was his golden robes before the world went dark.

Hmm. That chapter was a bit long, but oh well. It would have cotninued had I not cut it off so suddenly. Anyway, considering I have on reader so far, I don't think it matters that much lol. Thank you very much for the comment!  
I did add a place from the game into this chapter, but I doubt I'll be doing it much more. Yeah, the cavern with the waterfall is supposed to be the same cavern you see in Ico. 


End file.
